Facing Death
by dawn341
Summary: Highlander Alternate Universe - 6th in a series of 6 stories. Tessa is dying from old age.


Facing Death by Dawn Cunningham

I wrote this story a long time ago. Since the Highlander fanfic archive has disappeared, I'm starting to post my stories on other sites. Disclaimers:

Most of the characters mentioned in the story belong to Rysher. I'm just borrowing them and not getting paid for it. A couple belong to me, but I don't want them anymore.

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact.

Warnings:

This story is an alternate universe. This is the fifth and final installment in my alternate universe. They include:

'A New Future'

'A Time To Heal'

'To Trust Again'

'Gaining Independence'

'Survival'

I strongly suggest that you read those first, but it isn't really necessary. I'll recap the stories for you. They can be found at the URL address listed below.

! Warning !

This is a death story concerning a major Highlander character.

Recap:

In the first story, Duncan had been unable to find Richie when he returned from the island, because of that, the entire future changed. The most important change was that Tessa didn't die.

Three years later, Richie showed up at the antique store, a brand-new Immortal. Duncan agreed to train him, but had a hard time relating to his new student. As for Richie, the past three years had been difficult for him, leaving him unwilling to trust anyone. He did agree to follow Duncan's rules, which included staying out of trouble with the law. Broke, and unable to find a job, Richie moved into the antique store with Duncan and Tessa. Slowly, his relationship with Duncan and Tessa has grown. Duncan bought the dojo and hired Richie to manage it, letting him live in the apartment above it.

This story takes up quite some time later.

* HL * HL * HL * HL * HL * HL

Facing Death by Dawn Cunningham

Richie Ryan stepped out into the brilliant Hawaiian sunshine and slipped on his sunglasses to block the glare. All around him, eager, smiling tourists flocked onto shuttles to be taken to nearby resorts. He'd been like that the first time he'd visited here, but this trip was different. He signaled for a taxi, and one zoomed up in front of him. Years ago, he might have rented a car, but Hawaii had passed a law that only residents were allowed cars - and only one to a household - in an effort to control their overcrowded streets.

He tossed his bag into the back of the cab, and climbed in beside it. He gave the driver directions, slid his debit card into the appropriate slot to pay for the trip, then sat back, trying to relax. He'd flown halfway around the world to get here and, even with all the innovations in air travel, it was still an exhausting trip. Granted, they'd cut the flight time in half, but not much else had improved.

When they reached their destination, he took the printed receipt, climbed out of the cab, then headed into the building. A receptionist greeted him, and it didn't take too long to get the information he needed. He gave the young girl a bright smile, and she willingly agreed to stash his bag behind her desk. Long ago, he would have worked hard to get her phone number. Now, he was old enough to be her grandfather, even if he didn't look it.

Richie headed for the stairs and quickly trotted up them to the second floor. He felt the presence of another Immortal before he actually saw him. Duncan MacLeod came out of a room, quietly closing the door behind him. The two of them met halfway, and embraced each other.

"I came as soon as I could," Richie said, having trouble forcing the words past the lump in his throat.

"Did you take care of... your problem?" Duncan glanced at a nurse sitting at a nearby desk.

Richie nodded, answering the question and signaling that he understood Duncan's silent message. He had to watch what he said. "I didn't want... my troubles following me here." The troubles had been an Immortal who'd been determined to take his head, but Richie had made a decision a long time ago...

September, 1996

Richie carefully placed his katana on the dining room table in front of Duncan. He'd heard all the arguments from Duncan and Joe and Methos - both the real one and the one masquerading as Methos. It hadn't been an easy decision to make, but the killing had to stop someplace. "Richie, think about this," Duncan almost pleaded.

"I have, Mac. I've thought about it as much as I've thought about anything in my life."

"Do you realize what you're doing?" Duncan rose to his feet and came around to stand by Richie. "This is not just a weapon - this is part of us, part of who we are."

"Not me." Richie shook his head. "It's not who I am. Not anymore." He looked at his teacher. "Look, we don't have to agree on this. I'm sorry."

Duncan placed a hand on Richie's shoulder for a moment, looking very unhappy. "So am I."

"I don't understand," Tessa said, looking back and forth at the two Immortals. "What is going on? What have I missed?" She'd only returned that day from a trip to Paris.

Duncan waited a moment for Richie to explain, but finally did it himself. "Richie met another Immortal who's convinced him that all Immortals should lay down their swords. It's going to get him killed."

"Is that true, Richie?" Tessa asked.

"Think about it, Tessa. No more swords. No more killing. Peace among Immortals." Richie paused for a moment than added in a low voice, "I don't like to kill."

"Well, I would hope not, but does that mean you can't defend yourself?" Tessa thought for a moment, then continued. "Richie, we have a store full of very expensive things. What keeps people from trying to steal from us - like you tried one time?"

Richie had no idea what she was trying to get at, but he played along. "Well, you have a burglar alarm for starters."

"So, if we didn't have an alarm, more people would try to break in?"

"Yeah, probably."

"In fact, if we left all our doors open and unlocked - after all, we should trust everyone - what would happen?"

"You'd be ripped off so fast it would make your head spin."

"So, by taking preventative steps, we keep people from stealing from us. Right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Then doesn't it make sense that just by carrying a sword, you're keeping some Immortals from attacking you?"

Richie felt like he was being backed into a corner. "It's not the same."

"Yes, it is," Tessa insisted. "It's a nice dream, Richie. I, even more than you, wish that all Immortals would quit fighting. Then I wouldn't have to worry about you two. But, even if you both put down your swords, there would be someone waiting to take advantage of that. I know that the killing isn't easy on you, but what about a compromise?"

"Like what?"

"Continue carrying your sword, but only use it to defend yourself. Just because you know how to fight, doesn't mean you have to fight. And maybe you'll be able to convince the other Immortal that fighting isn't necessary."

"And if the other Immortal insists on fighting?"

"Then you defend yourself to the best of your ability. Whether or not you take their head is up to you, but you have a right to defend yourself. Even the law says so."

Richie thought about it for a few moments. "I guess that makes sense. All right, Tessa. I'll continue carrying my sword." He picked his katana up and slid it into his coat.

"And you'll keep up your training?"

"Yes, Tessa." Richie couldn't help but feel like a chastened schoolboy.

"Good. Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek. "I would worry too much about you if you didn't."

Richie vowed to keep up his training. Causing Tessa worry was the last thing he ever wanted to do...

Present time.

Since then Richie had walked away from a fight whenever he could, but this guy wouldn't take no for an answer. He had also wanted to play cat and mouse. By the time they'd actually fought, Richie had been fed up with the games. He'd wasted no time taking the bastard's head. "I'm sorry it took so long."

"She understood," Duncan said, giving him a small smile.

"Is she..." He couldn't say the word. Wouldn't forgive himself if the answer was yes.

Duncan smiled again. "She's been waiting for you. She told me she couldn't... leave until she saw you."

"Maybe I shouldn't see her then. That way she'll stay with us."

"I wish it was that simple." Duncan sighed, the strain evident on his face. "But we both know it doesn't work that way."

"I guess not... it's just so hard..." Richie found himself fighting back tears. If he felt this bad, how was Duncan managing?

The Scot wrapped his arms around Richie again, hugging him tightly. The younger Immortal felt like their roles were reversed. He was supposed to be the one comforting Duncan, not the other way around.

"How long has she been here?" Richie asked, pulling back.

Duncan sighed again. "On and off for the past six months. She'd seem to get better and they'd let me take her home, but the good times never lasted long."

"Six months!" Richie's voice rose in anger. The answering scowl from Duncan reminded him to keep his voice low. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Didn't you think I would want to know?"

"*I* wanted to, but she wouldn't let me. She didn't want to worry you. You were having so many problems with Maggie at the time."

Maggie. Now it was Richie's turn to sigh. Maggie and he had been lovers for almost three years before they moved in together. Richie had carefully explained Immortals to her, and she'd seemed to understand. However, the reality of the situation had been too difficult for the woman, and eventually she'd moved out. He hadn't seen her for almost four months now. Of course, he hadn't passed that information on.

Richie glanced at the door behind them. "Can I see her now?"

"Of course." Duncan led the way to the door, opening it just as quietly as he had shut it.

Richie followed the Scot into the room, taking great care to walk as quietly as possible - something hard to do in boots. He should have worn something else. His first view of the woman in the bed shocked him.

When had Tessa grown so old? He did the math quickly, and was somewhat shocked to realize she was almost ninety. Still, it hadn't been that long ago when they'd last seen each other. It had become a ritual for them. Every year at Christmas they would get together. They hadn't missed a year since that very first Christmas he'd shared with the couple. It didn't matter where they were, they always got together. That had only been ten months ago.

Her blond hair had turned gray several years ago, but it was much thinner than he remembered. Her once-smooth face bore more than just laugh lines, now. She looked so small and shrunken in her hospital bed, various wires running to a wide array of monitors nearby.

Once again, it was Duncan who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She looks so different," Richie whispered.

Duncan shrugged. "I guess I've gotten used to it. It's different for me because I see her every day. The changes don't seem so drastic unless you start looking at photos."

Richie moved closer just as Tessa opened her eyes. They were the same brilliant blue that they'd always been, and her smile still lit up the room. It was enough to make him forget how pale she was. It also made her seem much younger.

"Richie, you came!" She held out a hand.

He hurried to take it. "I would have come sooner if I'd known," he chided her. "You shouldn't have kept this from me."

Tessa wrinkled her nose at him. For some reason, that little gesture that was so familiar made him want to cry. Duncan moved to the other side of the bed and pressed the button to raise the back of the bed.

"Thank you, Duncan," she said, smiling at the Scot. She turned back to Richie to answer his question. "I didn't want you to worry. Did Maggie come with you?"

Richie shook his head, unable to look at her while he lied. "She couldn't get away."

"You're lying to me," Tessa said. "I can always tell. What's wrong?"

"Don't worry about it, Tessa."

Her slim hand squeezed his for a moment. "What's wrong?"

"She left me about four months ago," Richie finally admitted.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Richie shrugged. "I didn't want you to worry."

For a moment they stared at each other, then they both started to laugh. It didn't last long, but it helped to ease some of the tension in the room.

"You two are a real pair," Duncan chimed in, shaking his head in bemusement.

"I'm sorry about Maggie," Tessa said. "She seemed very nice."

"Well, the way I figure it, it took Mac almost four hundred years before he found you, so I still have plenty of time to beat his record."

Tessa giggled at that comment. "Well, I hope you don't wait as long as he did."

"I don't intend to," he assured her.

Suddenly, she gripped his hand tightly, pressing her other one to her chest as her whole body seemed to tense up. Her breathing quickened and her face turned paler than before.

"What is it?" Richie asked, throwing a panicked look at Duncan.

The Scot had already hurried into action, lowering the bed down. "Take it easy, Tessa," he coached, smoothing back her hair.

It seemed to take forever before Tessa relaxed but, in reality, was only a few minutes. Richie didn't know what to say. He didn't have any experience dealing with sickness.

"Are you all right?" he asked when it was over.

Tessa shook her head slowly. "I am dying, Richie," she said in a weak voice.

"No!" Richie protested. "You're going to get better! You can't give up now!"

"No." Tessa squeezed his hand. "You have to accept this, Richie. I *am* dying." Her words seemed to drain the rest of her energy.

Richie didn't know what to say. He wanted to shout out a denial, but he couldn't do it in front of Tessa and Duncan.

An older nurse bustled into the room a moment later. "Good evening. I'm Nurse Shaver. I've just been assigned to this floor, so you'll probably be seeing a lot more of me. Time for your medication." She quickly checked the band around Tessa's wrist, before looking at the two men in the room. "So, who are these handsome young men? Your grandsons?"

Richie almost winced. How did Duncan handle these kinds of questions?

"No, they're my boyfriends," Tessa murmured, her voice and smile very weak.

"You lucky girl." The nurse finished emptying a syringe into the I.V. tube. "All done. Now, don't you go chasing these two hunks around the room. Let them do the chasing for a while."

"I always do."

The nurse laughed before leaving the room.

"Rest now," Duncan told Tessa, kissing her cheek. "You can talk to Richie later."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and Richie quickly looked at the monitors. He had no idea what they were, but nothing was flashing or beeping. At a signal from Duncan, he lowered her hand to the bed, and backed away. The Scot joined him.

"She'll sleep for a while, now. The medication always does that," Duncan explained in a low voice, motioning toward two chairs placed on the far side of the room.

"So, how are you holding up?" Richie asked.

Duncan shrugged. "It hasn't been easy, but I love her."

"So do I."

"I know. And after such a rough start, too."

Richie smiled in reminiscence. "Yeah, I figured I'd be back out on the streets real quick when we first met."

"But when you finally did move out, I wasn't sure which one of you was more upset."

"She kept dropping by with the flimsiest of excuses."

"Oh, like yours weren't?" Duncan grinned at his former student. "Let's see... how about the time you stopped by because you thought you left a shirt behind."

"I did forget one," Richie protested, maintaining his innocence even after all these years.

"It was in the ragbag, and should have stayed there."

The two Immortals grinned at each other for a moment.

"We had some good times, didn't we?" Richie reminisced.

"We had a *lot* of good times," Duncan corrected.

"Yeah, but there were some rough times, too. I remember..."

December 25, 2000.

Richie sipped at his glass of wine and stretched back in his chair, determined to remain there for the rest of the afternoon. They'd already opened all their Christmas gifts, and had a sumptuous dinner. Soon, Duncan would challenge him to a game of chess. It was a pattern that they had followed for five years now.

Except this year, things changed. Duncan and Tessa sat down on the couch, facing their guest.

"Richie, we have to talk," Duncan started.

A sense of impending doom flooded through Richie. "About what?"

Duncan and Tessa exchanged glances. "We're selling the antique store and leaving Seacouver."

"What? Why? I don't understand? I thought you loved it here."

"We do," Duncan replied. "But we've been here almost fourteen years. I don't look any older than when we moved here, but Tessa does. It's time for us to create a new life."

"What are you going to do?"

"We're going to live on our boat for a while." Duncan had just finished fixing up a sailboat that he'd bought several years earlier. "When we're tired of that, we'll settle down in France."

"France?" It sounded so far away.

"We both love Paris," Duncan explained. "And Tessa will be closer to her family."

Well, it was a good thing that he'd learned to speak French. "All right. When do we leave?"

Duncan and Tessa exchanged glances again. "Richie, you're not coming with us. It's time for you to be on your own."

"I've been on my own!" Richie protested. "I was before I became Immortal. And I did some traveling around the country last year."

"Three months doesn't quite qualify - even if you did end up in Rio."

"Does this mean we're not going to be friends anymore?" Richie carefully placed his wineglass on a nearby table, afraid that he would drop it because his hands were shaking so badly.

"Of course it doesn't," Tessa said, joining the conversation. "We're more than friends, Richie... We're family. We can still call each other, and send letters or email. We just won't be able to see each other as often as we used to."

"What about my training?" Richie looked directly at Duncan.

"There's very little I could teach you anymore - there hasn't been for a long time. You're a very accomplished swordsman, Richie. If anything, you should find other teachers - learn different things."

Despite Duncan's words, Richie still felt like he was being abandoned. "What about the dojo?"

The Scot reached over to the end table next to the couch. He picked up an envelope and passed it to the young man. "It belongs to you now."

Richie stared at the envelope in disbelief. "What?"

"Tessa and I decided that we wanted you to have it. Thanks to your management, it's finally making a profit. It only makes sense that you should be able to benefit from your hard work."

"But what about all that money you put into it - the building, the equipment, all the renovations..."

"Don't worry about it, Richie. I've already made up my mind. The dojo belongs to you, now."

"You don't have to..."

"I know I don't. That's why I'm doing it," Duncan said with a smile. "Any other questions?"

Richie shook his head. He was having trouble thinking at all.

"Good. Then how about our chess game?"

"I think I'll pass," Richie said, standing up. "I... I need some time..."

A disappointed look crossed Duncan's face, but he didn't try to stop Richie from leaving...

Present time.

"You were so upset that day," Duncan said. "I knew I should have saved that announcement for later. I probably ruined your Christmas."

"Yeah, it wasn't one of my best. And after you left Seacouver, it just wasn't the same. Joe followed you, and Methos stopped dropping by because the two of you were gone."

"Which is why you sold the dojo a year later."

"I figured it was time to move on myself. I made a nice profit on the place - thanks to all the new businesses that started in the area. The dojo was always busy."

"And you've been very successful at the different things you've tried since then."

"Well, except for that little incident on the motorcycle circuit."

"I wouldn't call dying in front of thousands of people a little incident," Duncan chastised him.

Richie shrugged. "It had always been a dream of mine - to race motorcycles. I had several good years on the circuit before my accident. Besides, I died a hero."

Duncan aimed a playful swat at his former student that was easily ducked. "I remember. You had to send your bike into a wall to avoid running over a rider who'd fallen in front of you."

"He wouldn't have come back to life, Mac. I had to make a decision in a split second. I still would have made that choice."

Duncan smiled. "I know, and I was very proud of you, but the media blitz was unbelievable."

Richie rolled his eyes. "Don't I know it. I finally took off for Australia to get away from all the publicity. At least there, they didn't know who Richie Ryan was."

"And now you own a very successful gallery in London."

"Yeah. Quite a change from a former thief. And most of my success is because of Tessa. She was the one who would drag me around to galleries and museums whenever I visited. I learned to appreciate art through her eyes. And, when I opened the gallery, she gave me a half dozen pieces of her art to sell. It made me an instant success."

Duncan smiled again. "She'd pretty much given up on sculpting by the time you announced your plans - after all, she was in her 70's by then. The next thing I knew, she was elbow deep in modeling clay again. But that didn't satisfy her. She insisted on getting her blowtorch out. I had to watch her constantly because she wasn't as strong as she used to be. I was always worried that something would fall on her."

"And she kept up her sculpting for years after that," Richie added. "I always had a waiting list for one of her pieces. I still display a couple of the pieces she gave me as gifts. I've received some really obscene offers for them - not that I would ever sell them."

"I don't think she would blame you if you needed the money."

"I don't need the money. I'm doing pretty well, thanks to the gallery. It doesn't even take up much of my time, anymore. I've got a good manager, and an accountant, and they handle most of the dull stuff. Other than traveling around looking for new artists, I don't have much to do with the gallery anymore. I've been looking around for a new challenge, but I don't know what I want to do."

"I'm sure you'll come up with something."

Their conversation was interrupted by the touch of another Immortal.

"Are you expecting anyone else?" Richie asked, prepared to go handle the other Immortal for his friend if necessary.

"It could be Connor or Methos," Duncan said. "I called both of them, too."

Richie knew Duncan would never have done that if he thought Tessa was going to get better. "You want me to go check it out?"

Duncan shook his head. "I'll do it. Stay here with Tessa. If anything happens, there's a button on the wall over there that will ring the nurse's station."

Richie nodded, trying to hide his apprehension as he glanced over at the bed. What if Tessa died while he was the only one with her?

Duncan seemed to understand. "If it happens, it happens, Richie. And it could happen at any time. Would you rather I stay here?"

"No, I can handle this, Mac. Go on."

Duncan placed a hand on Richie's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "I'll be back soon."

Richie took the time to examine the room. It was much larger than he'd expected - almost like two rooms. The walls were painted white, but there was artwork on several of them. His experienced eyes studied the pictures for a moment before dismissing them as mass-produced prints. He walked over to the large window on the other side of the room, looking out over a large garden filled with brilliant blooms. In the distance, he could even make out the blue of the ocean. The sun was just starting to set, but that only enhanced the picture.

He sighed. Duncan and Tessa had moved to Hawaii just over eight years earlier. Whenever he had visited, he'd spent a lot of time on the beach. That wasn't going to happen this time. He had a feeling that this paradise island would never be quite the same again - he would always associate it with Tessa and this hospital room.

Richie heard the door open and turned around. Connor gestured to him and he went over to see what he wanted.

"Hey, Connor."

"Richie. I'm going to take Duncan down to the cafeteria for something to eat. We won't be long."

"Okay. I'll stay with Tessa."

Connor nodded, then backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Richie went back to the window, staring out at the scenery without really seeing it. In many ways, Tessa had influenced him more than Duncan had. It had been her that he'd gone to after his first Quickening. She'd been there for him after his near-disastrous affair with Kristin. While deeply saddened as well, she'd been there for both of them when Joe had passed away.

Richie could still remember that awful time even though it had been over thirty years ago. It had been the first time he'd really been touched by death - except for that long ago death of Emily Ryan. Joe's sudden heart attack had left them all stunned. After the funeral, Tessa had gone to each of the Immortals there and given all three of them a hug - Duncan, Richie, and Methos.

They'd all gone to a bar afterwards, and spent hours reminiscing about their friendship with the Watcher. Tessa had listened, drinking mineral water so that she could make sure they got safely back to the house she and Duncan owned in Seacouver. They'd moved back there a few years before Joe's death.

Richie had stayed for two weeks, trying to help Duncan get over Joe's death. He'd pushed back his own feelings until the day before he'd left. He'd been unable to sleep that night, and had gone out to the deck overlooking the bay. Tessa had found him there, crying out his sorrow. She'd put her arms around him and rocked him until he was done. As far as he knew, she'd never told Duncan about his breakdown.

A sigh and a softly called 'Duncan' returned his attention to the bed. He quickly moved over to Tessa and took her hand.

"Mac is getting something to eat," he told her.

Tessa smiled. "Good. He hasn't been taking very good care of himself."

"Connor is with him - he'll make sure Mac has a good meal."

"I'm glad he is here. You and Duncan will need some good friends to turn to when I'm gone."

"I wish you wouldn't talk that way," Richie protested. "It sounds like you're giving up."

"In some ways, I am. Richie, I've been in pain for over two years - and it has only gotten worse in the past few months. I have had a good life - thanks to you and Duncan. But I am tired, Richie. Being confined to a bed isn't living. And until I die, Duncan won't be able to move on."

Richie struggled with his tears. "I'll... We'll miss you."

"I know." Tessa squeezed his hand. "I'd like to tell you not to mourn my passing, but I know you will. I would rather you celebrate my life. I do need you to make me a promise."

"Anything," Richie choked out.

"I know you will be there for Duncan, but I want you to promise to take time to mourn yourself."

Richie shook his head. "I don't understand."

"You did that when Joe Dawson died. You were so concerned about how Duncan was feeling that you bottled up your feelings. That isn't a good thing to do. Sooner or later, it will all come out. It would be better for it to come out sooner."

Richie wiped at his cheek with one hand, brushing away the tear that had fallen despite his best efforts. "I don't think that's going to happen this time, Tessa."

"You and Duncan will have to help each other. Connor will help."

"Methos is supposed to be on his way, too."

"Yes, he will know what you and Duncan are going through. I didn't like him at first, but despite his cynical attitude, he *has* been a good friend to Duncan."

"Yeah, he has." Richie felt the touch of another Immortal. "Well, either Methos has arrived, or Mac is coming back." A moment later, the door opened silently.

Duncan came inside when he saw that Tessa was awake. He kissed her cheek before asking, "Feel up to some more company?"

"Of course," Tessa answered with a smile.

Duncan went back to the door, opened it, and beckoned to someone in the hall. A moment later, Methos and Connor came into the room. They both greeted Tessa. Richie tried to step back, but the Frenchwoman tightened her grip on his hand, so he stayed where he was.

"You're as lovely as ever, Tessa," Connor said, picking up her hand and kissing it.

"Are all Scots blind?" Tessa snapped back, even though she smiled. "Duncan keeps saying the same thing."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Methos chipped in. "You will always be beautiful to all of us."

"I don't believe a single one of you," Tessa insisted before starting to cough.

"Pour her some water, Richie," Duncan said, helping her to sit up.

Richie turned to the nightstand and picked up the jug that was sitting there. He poured what was left into a glass, but it barely filled it halfway. Passing it over, he offered, "I'll go get some more."

He hurried out to the nurse's station. "Can I get some more water?"

"Of course. It will just take me a few minutes to get some more ice." Nurse Shaver took the jug. "I'll bring it back to the room after I fill it. You don't have to wait for it."

"Okay, thanks." Richie returned to the room. Tessa had been settled back on the bed and had stopped coughing. "The nurse said she'd bring some more water in a few minutes."

"That's fine," Duncan said.

"You need to rest, Tessa," Methos said. "We won't stay and tire you out."

"Thank you for coming," Tessa whispered.

"You couldn't have kept us away," Connor answered.

Before the two older Immortals had a chance to leave, Nurse Shaver came into the room. "Ooooh, they're multiplying. You're a very popular lady. What's your secret?"

"Must be my sparkling personality," Tessa barely managed to quip.

"Hmmm... Well, whatever it is, I wish I had some. Now then, you should be resting." She turned to the men in the room. "I'm going to have to ask some of you to leave. Only two visitors at a time."

"We were just going," Methos said, heading for the door with Connor. The nurse followed them out.

"Should I leave, too?" Richie asked. "I don't want to tire her out."

"I want you to stay," Tessa mumbled.

"All right, but you need to rest. No talking," Duncan insisted. "We'll let Richie do the talking - he's always been good at that."

Richie struggled to think of something to say. "You want to know what my best memory of us is?" he asked, grinning broadly.

Tessa nodded, reaching out to take his hand again.

"Well, it was the day..."

May, 1998

Richie struggled with his bow tie, unable to get it to do what he wanted. He finally emerged from the bathroom with it dangling from his fingers. "Help!"

Duncan sighed, but took it from his hands. "I thought I had you trained." With a few simple movements he had it tied.

"Yeah, you'd think with all the times I've had to wear a monkey suit for some shindig that you and Tessa wanted me to attend, that I'd be an expert at it." He'd been to enough fancy parties that he'd finally bought his own tuxedo. It beat renting one each time.

Richie took the time to study his friend. In a tuxedo, the older Immortal reminded him of James Bond. Duncan had an elegant grace that seemed suited to formal attire, whereas he always felt like a waiter - and a clumsy one at that.

He grabbed his jacket and slid into it. Patting the pockets, he looked around in panic. "Where's the ring?"

"Right where you left it - on the nightstand."

Richie sighed in relief and hurried over to pick up the jewelry box. He slipped it into his pocket. "I guess I'm ready if you are."

"Don't you think you should put your shoes on?" Duncan pointed out.

Richie looked down at his feet, encased only in black socks. "I guess I should." He looked around for the missing shoes, and spotted them on the floor by the couch.

"Why are you so nervous, Richie? It's not like *you're* the one getting married."

"I just don't want to mess this day up." Richie sat down to put on his shoes.

"You won't, so stop worrying."

"So, if I trip over my feet, bump into you, and send you crashing into Tessa - you won't hold that against me?"

"Of course not. I'll just take your head after the ceremony."

"Oh, well, then that's all right. I won't worry anymore."

"Good."

Richie looked up into the face of his mentor. "Why now, Mac? I know it's none of my business, but why are you getting married now? After all, you and Tessa have been together for years."

"Do you remember - about six months ago - when I left you a message while you were out traveling around."

"Yeah, it really worried me when I picked it up. But when I called you, you said everything was fine."

"It almost wasn't. Tessa was in a car accident. I... I almost lost her."

"You never told me."

"She was out of danger by the time you called back. She didn't want you to cut your trip short. The thought of really losing her..." Duncan paused for a moment. "Anyway, it made me realize how little time we might have together. It was enough to make me make that final commitment - one that I've never made to another woman. Tessa makes me feel so young. Every time I see her... it's like the first time. Every time I touch her... I..." His emotion-choked voice refused to go on.

"Sounds to me like you're in love."

Duncan gave a little laugh. "Yeah."

"Well, I'm very happy for you - both of you."

"Thank you, Richie. Can we go now?"

"Sure." Richie led the way over to the elevator and they took it down to the dojo. There was a limo waiting for them, and soon they were on their way to a small park overlooking the bay. They only made one stop on the way to pick up Joe Dawson.

Richie thought it was the most beautiful sight that he had ever seen. It was a gorgeous spring day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing in the trees that surrounded the small clearing, and the wildflowers were blooming, adding the right touch of color.

A trellis had been erected at one end of the clearing and had been covered with more wildflowers. Duncan and Tessa would exchange their vows there. They'd opted to not have any chairs since they were only having a civil ceremony and it was going to be very brief. Richie knew that the only other witnesses besides himself were Tessa's parents, her best friend, Natalie, who was going to be her maid of honor, and Joe. Connor had been invited, but had not been able to make it.

There would be a much larger reception after the ceremony, and Richie expected there to be a huge crowd there. Just then, another limo pulled up. "Time to take our place," Richie said, pulling at Duncan's arm.

Once in place, they turned to watch for Tessa. Her parents had already emerged from the limo, followed by Natalie. The three of them blocked their view until Tessa had climbed out of the car. It wasn't until her parents had moved up to stand by Joe and Natalie had taken her place that Richie finally saw Tessa.

He had to revise his previous statement. She was, without doubt, the most beautiful sight he had ever - or would ever - see. Her ivory gown was simplicity itself, but enhanced her natural beauty. It was long-sleeved, with a high-fitting collar, and a long, slim skirt that billowed out into a short train in the back. She had on a short veil that just barely covered her hair, and carried a bouquet of wildflowers.

She was absolutely gorgeous, and Richie suddenly found it hard to breathe. He knew that the love shining out of her eyes would match the love in Duncan's. He could only hope that, some day, some woman would look at him like that.

Present time.

"You know, I think I fell a little in love with you that day, Tessa. You were so beautiful, but I always knew we'd never be more than friends."

"You're wrong," Duncan said. "You're more than just our friend - you're family."

Tessa nodded, squeezing his hand in agreement.

Richie suddenly found himself near tears again. How many times had they told him the same thing in all the years he'd known them? Yet, every time, it was like hearing it for the first time.

"You know, there have been times when I've wondered what my life would have been like if I'd never broken into your antique store. I think it was the luckiest thing I ever did."

"You would have found another teacher," Duncan said.

"Maybe. Or maybe I would have met up with someone who would have taken my head without even thinking twice about it. I feel like I owe you both so much."

"You don't owe us anything," Duncan insisted. "You've been a good friend all these years. Why, if it hadn't been for you, I'd probably still be locked up in that cell that Killian left me in. And that's not the only time you've helped me - or Tessa, for that matter."

"I know. It's just... I wanted you to know that I *am* grateful for all you've done for me."

"We know that."

Nurse Shaver popped her head inside the door. "Visiting hours are over," she announced. "I'm going to have to ask your guests to leave."

"*I* have permission to stay here," Duncan informed her. "You should find a note on her chart."

"Very well. I'll check." She turned away, letting the door close behind her.

"I guess I'd better go." Richie leaned over and gave Tessa a kiss on her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tessa."

"Have you checked into a hotel, yet?" Duncan asked.

Richie shook his head. "I came here directly from the airport. I left my bag downstairs."

"Then why don't you stay at our place? There should be plenty of room for the three of you." Duncan passed over several keycards. "You might as well use my car, too." He gave a brief description of the car and where he'd parked it.

"Thanks, Mac." Richie gave Tessa's hand a final squeeze before leaving the room. Methos and Connor were in the waiting room down the hall.

"Ready to go?" Connor asked.

"Yeah. Mac gave me the key to his place. Said we could stay there."

Connor nodded. "Sounds good. Methos is going to stay here in case... Duncan needs anything."

Richie heard the words that weren't spoken. In case Tessa dies. They must think it was going to happen soon. Duncan had said it could happen at any time, but he hadn't asked for any details.

He led Connor out to the parking lot, only stopping long enough to grab his bag from the front desk. It took a few minutes of searching before they found Duncan's car and Connor climbed behind the wheel. Richie let him without protest, knowing he was too tired to drive. He couldn't even figure out the time difference between here and his home.

Connor didn't speak until they reached Duncan's place. He grabbed Richie's bag from the trunk and placed an arm around the young man's shoulders as he guided him inside. "Do you want to eat or sleep first?"

Richie thought about it for a moment. "I'm too tired to sleep. Maybe a sandwich and a beer will help. Besides, I need to get used to this time zone. If I go to sleep now, I'll be up at two in the morning."

Connor nodded. "I'll make us something to eat. Why don't you grab a quick shower."

"Sounds good. Which bedroom do you want?"

"I'll take the master bedroom." Connor carried Richie's bag into the guest room and tossed it on the bed.

Richie was glad that Connor had taken the master bedroom. He didn't think he could handle sleeping in the bed that Duncan and Tessa used. It would be too weird.

He wasted no time heading for the shower. While he wasn't exactly hot, plunging into cool water sounded wonderful. For a brief moment, he debated going for a swim instead, but decided to leave that for the morning. After he was done, he donned a pair of shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, and headed for the kitchen.

The small house showed signs of neglect. Dust covered the table tops in all the rooms. Dirty dishes were stacked in the kitchen sink. Duncan was probably spending all his time at the hospital. Well, this was something he could do. He would clean up the place in the morning.

"Grab some beers and have a seat. Dinner's almost ready," Connor said, standing by the stove and stirring something in a pan. Like his clansman, he still preferred fixing food the old-fashioned way. None of those instant meals for them. Of course, he was almost as bad.

"You didn't have to cook anything. A sandwich would have been fine." Richie searched the almost-empty refrigerator and pulled out the last two bottles of beer.

"It's nothing special. I'm just making some pasta with marinara sauce. There wasn't much choice - the cupboards are almost bare." Connor filled two plates and brought them over to the table.

"So, how have you been, Connor?"

"Not too bad. Just sold my plane. I'm tired of hauling tourists around all the time. Besides, it's time for me to leave Alaska."

"So, what's next?"

Connor shrugged. "I haven't any definite plans."

"I know the feeling. I'm trying to come up with some ideas, too. Kit O'Brady and Fitzcairn want me to go in with them to buy a casino, but I don't know..." Richie shook his head. "Those two aren't the most dependable business partners."

"That's for sure. Didn't you and Fitzcairn go into business together once already?"

Richie nodded. "We opened a restaurant. He did the cooking. I handled the bar and the books. We would have done a lot better if he'd been able to keep his mind on the pots and pans in the kitchen instead of the ladies in the dining room."

"Was that before or after you spent a year training with me?"

"A few years after. It sounded like a piece of cake after what you put me through. Not that I didn't appreciate it," Richie added hastily.

"You learned a lot, didn't you?"

Richie nodded again. "Yeah, I learned how much pain an Immortal could feel." He tried to keep a straight face, but couldn't.

"Hmmm... maybe you need a refresher course. We'll just see how much you've retained tomorrow morning."

"All right." He looked down at his plate and was surprised to find it was empty. "Guess I was hungry after all."

"Well, finish your beer and go to bed. I'll run out and get some groceries so we'll have some food tomorrow."

"No sense in my going to sleep. I'll just wake up when you come back. I'll clean up the kitchen while you're gone. Oh, and you'd better buy a lot of beer since Methos is in town."

Connor agreed, and left as soon as he finished dinner. Richie washed the dishes, wiped down the countertops, and the stove, then swept the floor. He thought about dusting, but decided to head for the porch instead. A hammock was stretched between two posts and he climbed into it, starting it to swing. There was almost no breeze - nothing unusual since the sun had gone down. Richie knew there was some scientific explanation for it, but it had always seemed strange to him. During the day, there was almost always a breeze, but it stopped at sunset. Someday, he'd have to read up on it.

Richie knew the house really didn't belong to Duncan. Instead, an old Immortal friend owned the place, and had loaned it to him. It was the only way they could have found an oceanfront place. Set back a short distance from the beach, with trees and large shrubs completely surrounding the other three sides, it made him feel like he was the only one on the island. The house consisted of the living room, an eat-in kitchen, and two bedrooms. A small addition in the back gave Duncan a place to workout.

Richie saw the car before he felt the touch of the other Immortal. While fairly certain that it was Connor, he climbed out of the hammock. It didn't pay to be caught off guard. When he saw the older Scot, Richie went out and helped carry the groceries in. Once they were put away, he headed for his bedroom.

* HL * HL * HL

Richie woke earlier than expected the next day. Barely past five, the sun hadn't even come up yet. He slipped out of bed, put on swimming trunks and headed for the beach. He ran through some stretching exercises, then went for a run. By the time he'd returned, the sun was up, and he wasted no time plunging into the ocean.

The cool water was invigorating and he swam for a long time before emerging from the ocean. He found Connor waiting for him on the beach, a cup of coffee in one hand and a towel in the other. Both of their swords were embedded in the sand just behind the Scot. Richie wrapped the towel around his shoulders, then took the offered cup and quickly emptied it, grateful for the warmth that flooded through him.

"Ready to spar?" Connor asked.

Richie almost turned him down. He'd already had a good workout, but being able to fight even when tired was a necessity. "Just a sec," he replied, setting the coffee cup down. He quickly dried off, then reached for his sword.

The young Immortal had sparred with Connor many times over the past decades. He'd even spent a year training with the Scot. The days where their sessions had been used to teach were long gone. Nowadays, their sparring was either light-hearted fun, or a more serious testing of each other's skills. It was the latter that they did today. They weren't trying to kill each other, but they did force each other to use their best skills to keep from having wounds inflicted.

Finally, Connor called an end to the sparring. "You did well," he said, reaching for another towel on the sand.

Richie picked up his own towel and mopped his face. "Thanks. So did you," he added with a grin. Sometimes, it never hurt to remind both Connor and Duncan that he was no longer their student.

Connor grimaced, then smiled. "Sorry about that, Richie."

"Don't worry about it. I'm used to it by now." He was also used to his friends still calling him Richie. That name had been fine for a young man, but he was in his seventies now and he preferred either Rich or Richard. The fact that he still looked like a young man made it more difficult and he had stopped pushing the issue. He would always be Richie to Duncan and Connor - no matter how old he was. "How about breakfast?"

"Sounds good. What are you going to make?" Connor asked.

"Me? I thought you were appointed chief cook."

"Not hardly. I believe in equal sharing."

"I guess I could make some omelets," Richie said, trying to hide his grin. It was a long-standing joke that the young Immortal was 'egg-challenged'.

Connor turned pale. "On second thought, maybe I *should* do the cooking. You had a longer workout than I did."

"No, no, I insist. It's only fair that I do my share."

"Okay. How about pancakes?"

"No... I really have my mind set on an omelet."

Connor sighed. "All right. I'll hit the shower while you fix breakfast."

Richie hurried into the kitchen, and set to work. By the time Connor joined him, the omelets were done. The look on the older Immortal's face when he took his first bite was sweet revenge.

"This is good," Connor said, astonishment filling his voice.

"See, I *can* learn," Richie said, smugly.

"I never doubted it."

Silence settled in the kitchen as the two Immortals emptied their plates. "Your turn to do dishes," Richie said when they were done. "I'm going to take a shower, then clean up the place."

Connor nodded and started clearing the table. After his shower, Richie started on the living room. The Scot moved on to the master bedroom and cleaned in there. It didn't take long to return the small house to the pristine condition Duncan normally kept it in.

Richie glanced at his watch. There was still an hour before they could return to the hospital. He headed out to the porch and sat down in one of the chairs, staring out over the ocean. He'd found, on earlier visits, that the roar of the pounding surf could be very relaxing, but not today.

Connor joined him a short time later, carrying two glasses of cold fruit juice. He handed one over, then sat down in a nearby chair.

Richie took a sip of his drink, then turned to the Scot. "Can I ask you something, Connor?"

"Of course."

"What's it like? To love someone so much that you'd stay with them, watching them grow older when you don't. Knowing that they will die and you won't?"

"It's difficult to describe, Richie. First off, there's no guarantee that they will be the first to die. How many times has Duncan faced another Immortal in the last fifty years? Each time he fought, he could have been the one to lose. Life is a risk - whether you're immortal or not. When you find the right person, you'll understand."

"Then how do you cope with the loss?"

"It's not easy. Mostly, you just try to get through one day at a time. Eventually it gets better - although there are times when you think it never will."

Richie sighed.

"There are no easy answers, Richie."

"I know... I guess I was hoping that there was something you'd learned in all your years to make this easier."

"I doubt that even Methos has found a way to make this easier, and he's been around a lot longer than I have. Maybe you should try talking to him."

"He doesn't think much of me. He'd probably give me some sarcastic or flippant answer."

"Don't take it personally. I think he uses his sarcasm as a defense tool to keep people at bay. Actually, I think you've surprised him by living so long. You came into The Game so late that you shouldn't have had much chance to survive. I know it was always a worry of Duncan's that you wouldn't have at least a mortal's lifetime. You've done well."

"I had some good teachers," Richie said, pleased by Connor's comments. "Although, sometimes, it seems like it's been more luck than skill."

Connor smiled. "I know the feeling, but you have the skill, as well."

"Thanks, Connor. That means a lot, coming from you."

"And so it should," the Scot replied with a smirk.

Richie couldn't help but laugh. It helped to ease his tension, and he knew Connor had done it deliberately. He glanced at his watch again. "Guess we can head for the hospital."

"All right."

* HL * HL * HL

When the got to the hospital, they found Methos in the waiting room, looking extremely tired.

"How is she?" Connor asked, glancing down the hall towards Tessa's room.

Methos shook his head. "She had a bad night. The doctors have been in and out all night long. I know Duncan didn't get any sleep."

"You two should go back to the house and get some sleep in real beds," Connor suggested.

"I'll take you up on that offer, but I'm not so sure that Duncan will."

"I'll have a *chat* with him," Connor replied before heading down the hall.

An uneasy silence filled the waiting room. Richie had always felt a little uncomfortable around Methos and today was no different. He turned away, and fetched himself a cup of coffee to give himself something to do. When he turned back around, he found the older Immortal staring at him.

"What?" Richie asked, almost defiantly.

"You don't like me much, do you?" Methos finally replied, returning to his seat on the couch.

Richie shrugged. "I don't *dislike* you."

"But you don't like me, either."

Richie shrugged again. "You're Mac's friend. You made it pretty clear, early on, that you didn't think much of me."

"Well, you have to admit that you did some pretty stupid things back then," Methos said.

"I was young," Richie defended himself.

"You still are."

"To you, maybe. In mortal years, I'm a senior citizen, and then some. Mac is even young compared to you."

"In years only, but not in experience. He's been in wars, seen famine, seen some of the atrocities of mankind. You haven't been through that yet. It's those kinds of things that shape an Immortal. You still have that to face."

"Maybe, although I hope I never have to. Either way, I don't feel I have to justify my life to you."

Methos nodded. "Good. I wouldn't want you to."

Just then, Connor and Duncan entered the room. The older Scot had his arm around the younger one. "Duncan has agreed to go home and try to sleep," he announced.

Duncan turned to Richie. "You'll stay with her?" he asked with a pleading voice.

Richie nodded. "I'll stay with her."

"Okay." Duncan looked relieved. "I won't be gone long."

"You need to sleep," Connor insisted. "I don't want to see you back here before dinner."

"What if..."

"We'll call you if there's any reason," Connor said, steering Duncan towards the stairs.

Richie watched them go, then headed for Tessa's room. He quietly opened the door and slipped inside. She had her eyes closed, but he couldn't tell if she was sleeping. The couch had been folded out into a bed, and he busied himself by closing it back up. Once that was done, he settled down to wait. A book rested on a nearby table and he picked it up. It would help him pass the time. He was somewhat surprised to find it was the latest murder mystery. He would have bet money on it being something historical.

Some time later, he heard Duncan's name being called. He hurried over to the bedside. "He's not here, Tessa. Can I get you something?"

Tessa smiled weakly. "Richie. A drink of water."

Richie poured a glass from the pitcher on the bedside stand, before raising the bed up. He had to hold the glass for her since her hand was shaking badly. Tessa took a few sips, then nodded her thanks.

"Where is Duncan?"

"Hopefully, he's home sleeping. Connor convinced him to go."

"Good." Her eyes shut again. Richie was just about to go back to the couch when she opened her eyes again. "Do you ever regret being immortal?" she asked bluntly.

Richie thought a long time about his answer. "I regret having to kill people. I regret not being able to have children. But I don't really regret being an Immortal. What about you? Did you ever want to be immortal?"

"I didn't at first. But then I kept getting older and older, and Duncan stayed the same. There were times when I wished I was an Immortal - that Duncan and I could be together for hundreds of years like Gina and Robert de Valicourt."

Richie had met the couple, too, and hadn't been impressed. "They fight like cats and dogs. Who would want to do that for hundreds of years?"

Tessa giggled. "Duncan and I fight occasionally, too. Then we get to make up."

Richie rolled his eyes. "That figures. You two always did like to 'make up'."

Tessa sighed, and her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment. She opened them briefly and asked, "Would you open the window, please. I would like some fresh air."

Richie hurried to do her bidding. The window slid open easily, letting in a warm breeze. "Is that better?" he asked.

Tessa nodded. "I miss my house. You can always hear the ocean there. I didn't like it at first - especially when I was trying to sleep, but it didn't take long before I got used to it. After that, it was so easy to fall asleep with the sound of the waves in the background."

"Do you have any regrets, Tessa? Would you have changed anything?"

Tessa reached a hand out, and Richie took it in his. "Everyone has regrets. There are so many things I wish I could have changed. That Duncan and I had lived closer to my family. That Duncan had found you when he first looked for you. Maybe you wouldn't have died so young, then." She squeezed his hand tightly. "But I'm still happy with my life. I can't change the past - neither can you. You have to keep moving forward. You've seen what Duncan is like when he starts brooding about things in his past."

Richie nodded.

"I suppose it's hard to prevent that from happening when you live that long, but it never helps. Learn from your past and your mistakes, then move on. Try not to dwell on the past."

"I'll try, Tessa. I'm going to miss all the wonderful advice you've given me over the years. Mac may have taught me how to fight, but you've taught me how to live. Thank you." Richie leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek.

Tears glistened in her eyes. "You are very welcome, Richie." She paused for a moment before adding, "And you had better remember all my advice or I will come back and haunt you!"

Richie gave a little laugh. "You would, too. I'll keep that in mind."

She turned serious again. "There is something else I want you to keep in mind. I love you, Richie, as does Duncan. In many ways, you are the son we never had. I - we are so proud of you. I wanted you to know."

Richie fought back his tears. "Oh, Tessa," he managed to choke out.

She held out her arms, and he went into them, hugging her carefully in return. He didn't know how long they sat there, holding each other, but eventually she pulled back.

"I love you, Tessa."

She smiled. "I know." Her hand lightly cupped his cheek before slipping down to the bed. Her eyes fluttered shut again. "I think I will rest for a while, now."

"All right. Do you want the bed lowered?"

Tessa nodded, and Richie pressed the button until the bed was back in its original position. "I'll be here if you need anything," he said before releasing her hand. He went back over to the couch and settled in again.

He kept remembering her words. A son. Did Duncan feel the same way? Is that why they'd stayed so close over the years? When he started to think about it, he realized that, in many ways, Duncan and Tessa were the parents he'd never had. He was always thinking about them. Always trying to do things that they would be proud of. He gave a little sigh. If only they'd been there for him while he was growing up. How different things might have been. Richie gave himself a mental shake. Tessa was right. He couldn't change the past. Regrets would only tear him apart.

The rest of the day dragged by. Connor brought Richie some lunch, and there was an occasional visit by a nurse or doctor. Tessa was restless, moving occasionally as if she wasn't comfortable, but never indicating that she wanted to talk. Duncan came back around five o'clock, looking slightly more rested.

"How is she doing?" he asked, after walking over to Tessa's bed and kissing her cheek.

"We talked for a while this morning," Richie said in a low voice. "Other than that, she's been restless all day. She doesn't seem to be in pain, but she's not sleeping, either."

Duncan sighed. "It was the same last night. Even her medication isn't making her sleepy like it usually does. The doctors don't want to give her any sedatives with all the other medication she's on for pain."

Richie couldn't help thinking that maybe that would be for the best. While he didn't want Tessa to die, he didn't want to see her suffer, either. While euthanasia was legal now, he didn't know if he should bring it up or not. Surely Duncan and Tessa had already talked about that option.

"Why don't you take a break," Duncan suggested. "Connor said you haven't left the room the whole day."

"I promised that I would stay with her," Richie said as he stood up. "I won't be far if you need me."

Duncan nodded. "Thanks, Rich."

The young Immortal headed out to the hallway. Connor and Methos were in the waiting room, and he gave them a quick progress report. Richie poured himself a cup of coffee and wandered over to the window while he drank it. The sight of the ocean in the distance gave him an idea. After he explained it to the other two Immortals, Methos volunteered to do the job. Hopefully, it would help.

Once he was gone, Richie followed Connor's suggestion and went for a walk in the garden he'd seen from Tessa's room. It felt good to stretch his legs and feel the warmth of the sun - even if it was setting. After an hour, he headed back inside, feeling refreshed. He checked in with Duncan, but there was no change. Then he and Connor headed down to the cafeteria to get some food.

By the time they finished, Methos was back. Richie took the small, palm-size recorder and hurried back to Tessa's room.

"This might help," he told Duncan, placing the device on the table next to Tessa's bed. He punched a few buttons so that the recording would play continuously, then hit the play button. The sound of ocean waves gently filled the room. He adjusted the volume until it reminded him of what he'd heard the previous night.

A small sigh came from Tessa's bed, and Richie glanced down at her, wondering if it hadn't been such a good idea after all. Instead, he saw a smile on her face. Her eyes opened briefly, and she whispered, "I can hear the ocean."

"Just like being at home," Richie said.

She nodded, then closed her eyes again. After a while, Richie and Duncan moved away from the bed.

"She seems to be resting easier. How did you come up with this idea?"

"Tessa told me about how she used to fall asleep to the sound of the ocean. Methos volunteered to make the recording and brought it back."

"It was a good idea."

The rest of the evening dragged just as the day had. Duncan didn't seem inclined to talk. Richie didn't know if his presence was helping Duncan or not, but he didn't want to leave him alone, either. When the nurse came to announce that visiting hours were over, Richie reluctantly left the room.

Back at Duncan's house, Richie immediately changed into his swimming suit and headed for the ocean, feeling the need to burn off some of his energy. He knew Connor was watching him from the beach - probably concerned about his safety - but didn't let that stop him. He kept swimming until he was almost exhausted. Only then did he stagger out of the water.

He flopped down on the sand, feeling the warmth that still lingered there even though the sun was no longer baking it. "I feel so useless!" he almost shouted.

"How so?" Connor asked in a calm voice.

Richie struggled to put his feelings into words. "I feel like I should be helping Mac, but I'm not doing any good. Hell, yesterday it was *him* who was comforting *me*. What kind of friend am I?"

"The kind who stands by their friends when they need them. You *are* helping, Richie. Duncan wouldn't have left today if you hadn't been there. He really needed the sleep, and he got it, thanks to you. Your idea also helped Tessa get some sleep. Just remember that Duncan doesn't share his feelings very well. He tends to keep them to himself."

Richie nodded. "Yeah, I know that."

"The most important thing you've done here, though, is said your good-byes to Tessa. You would have regretted it for a long time if she had died before you got here. You've also given Tessa a chance to say good-bye. You being here has helped her, too, even if it's not evident."

"I guess. I just wish there was something more..."

"So do I, but we do what we can - what Duncan will let us do."

They sat there for a while longer, before finally heading into bed. Richie was glad that Connor was there for him. He'd never be able to have these kinds of conversations with Methos. And he sure didn't want to bother Duncan with them. He had enough to handle already.

Shortly after one o'clock, Connor came into Richie's bedroom and woke him up. "Methos just called. Tessa had a bad attack. They don't think she's going to live much longer."

Richie was moving before Connor had finished his sentence. It didn't take long for them to get dressed and drive to the hospital. Methos was in the waiting room, pacing back and forth.

"Anything new?" Connor asked.

Methos shook his head. "He's asked that the doctors and nurses all leave. He wants to be alone with her."

Richie didn't know if that meant him or not, but he was at least going to let Duncan know they were here. "I'll go see how he's doing."

Methos looked like he was going to protest, but Connor shook his head to stop him. Richie headed down the hall, and went into Tessa's room. Duncan was sitting on the bed, holding her in his arms.

"Mac? I know you want to be alone, but I just wanted to let you know that Connor and I are here in case you need anything."

"Richie." Duncan's choked voice stopped him from leaving. "Stay. Please."

"Are you sure?" Richie asked hesitantly. He didn't want to intrude if Duncan wanted to be alone.

Duncan nodded. "You love her just as much as I do."

Richie slowly crossed the room. There was enough room for him to sit on the bed as well and he took one of Tessa's hands in his. Her skin was cool to the touch, but he could still see the slight movement of her chest as she breathed. He glanced up to Duncan's face and saw the tears rolling down the Scot's cheeks.

He struggled to hold back his own tears, but a few managed to escape. He wasn't ashamed that he was crying - that was a lesson he'd learned long ago - but he wanted to be strong for his friend.

Four hours later, Tessa opened her eyes, and smiled at Duncan, then Richie. Her eyes fluttered shut before either Immortal could say anything. She took one last breath and died.

They continued to hold her for another thirty minutes. Finally, Richie released her hand. "It's time to let her go, Mac," he said gently.

Reluctantly, Duncan shifted to a standing position and placed her back on the bed. He placed a lingering kiss to her lips, and gently stroked her hair, before pulling the sheet up over her head.

Richie put an arm around his shoulders and, together, they left the room. The nurse at the station saw them in the hall and Richie gave her a nod. He knew she had understood when she immediately reached for the phone - probably summoning a doctor to verify Tessa's death.

Methos and Connor took one look at the pair of them when they entered the waiting room and knew what had happened. No words were necessary. Richie stepped back while the other two Immortals offered their sympathies. He wandered over to look out the window. The sun was just coming up. Somehow, it didn't seem right when Tessa was dead.

"You okay?" A strong hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

Richie looked back at Connor for a moment before returning his gaze out the window. "Yeah, I'm okay." Funny, how easy it was to lie sometimes. In reality, he wasn't feeling anything at all. No pain. No sorrow. Just numb. It was a weird sensation.

Connor's hand stayed on Richie's shoulder for several long moments before it was finally removed. From the reflection in the window, Richie knew the older Scot had returned to Duncan's side. After a little while, he joined the other three Immortals.

Duncan looked totally shattered, and Richie wondered if he looked just as bad. Connor was sitting next to his clansman, keeping one hand resting on the younger man's shoulder. Methos was in a chair nearby, just watching them.

Richie didn't know what to say or do. He knew that arrangements needed to be made, but didn't even know where to begin. He was saved by Methos, who spoke up.

"What kind of arrangements do you want?" the oldest Immortal asked.

Duncan seemed to shake off his depression for a moment. "I want to take her back to Paris. Bury her next to her parents. It's what she wanted. We..." He paused for a moment to wipe away a tear that slid down his face. "We've already made all the arrangements - picked out the casket and flowers and everything. Tessa didn't want me to have to do it after she... left." He gave Methos the name of the local mortuary they had chosen, as well as the one in Paris.

"I'll take care of everything," Methos said. "I assume we're all going to Paris?" He looked at the other two Immortals.

Connor nodded, and Richie said, "Of course."

"All right. I'll make the flight arrangements, too. Why don't you take him home?"

"I can't leave her," Duncan protested.

"Yes, you can," Connor insisted. "You can't do anything more for her."

Richie almost gasped at the brutal words of the older Scot. While technically true, they could have been put forth in a more diplomatic way. Besides, if Duncan wanted to stay here, that was his right!

Instead, the younger Scot's face seemed to crumple. He nodded weakly, then stood up, Connor by his side. Together, they slowly headed for the elevator.

"Go with them," Methos said. "I'll stay behind to take care of things here."

"Thanks," Richie said, before following the two Scots.

Connor drove them back to the house. No one said a word during the trip. Once there, Duncan disappeared into his bedroom. Richie and Connor exchanged concerned glances, but neither followed the younger Scot.

"Why don't you take the bed in the guest room?" Richie suggested when he saw Connor yawn. "I can use the couch."

"Are you sure?" Connor asked.

Richie nodded. "I'm sure." He watched the Scot head into the other bedroom before taking off his pants and shirt, placing them neatly over a nearby chair. He collapsed on the couch wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. By all rights, he should have been exhausted after staying up most of the night, but he couldn't seem to fall asleep. All he kept thinking about was the grief on Duncan's face. If that was the outcome of loving a mortal woman, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to do that.

Nothing could be worth that kind of pain.

Or could it? Duncan had almost sixty-five years with Tessa. They'd known each other almost as long as Richie had been alive. And they had been deeply in love. There was no doubt about that at all. Did all the good memories outweigh the grief at the end?

He knew Tessa wasn't the first mortal woman that Duncan had loved. She was the first he'd married. And she'd been the first who'd lived so long. He must have thought it was worth it, otherwise he wouldn't keep falling in love with mortal women.

Richie snorted to himself. As if they had any control about who they fell in love with. Other than walking away after it happened, there wasn't much choice. He knew that Duncan had tried to walk away from Tessa, once, but she had followed him, refusing to let him go.

He heard a noise and opened his eyes to check it out. Duncan was partway across the living room, headed for the front door. Richie watched him go, then a few moments later, decided to check it out. He slipped on his pants, then padded out to the porch in his bare feet. Duncan was sitting in the sand, staring out at the ocean.

Richie argued with himself for several moments before joining Duncan. The Scot looked over at him, then turned his gaze back to the sea. They sat there for a long time without saying a word.

Duncan finally spoke. "I can't believe she's gone."

"I know, Mac. You were together for a long time."

"Only sixty-five years. It doesn't seem like that long of a time."

"That's longer than most mortals have together," Richie pointed out.

"We're not mortals!"

"She was," Richie said, calmly. "Listen, Mac, I didn't want Tessa to die either, but she was suffering and in pain. Did you want her to continue that way?"

After the longest time, Duncan finally spoke one word, in such a low tone that Richie almost didn't hear him. "No." He turned an anguished face towards his former student, tears running down his cheeks.

Without thinking, Richie put his arms around Duncan and held him tightly. The Scot started to sob, and Richie let him. He wished that he could cry like that, too, but he still felt numb and the tears wouldn't come. Maybe that meant he hadn't loved Tessa as much as he thought he had, if he couldn't cry over her death. Or maybe he'd just held back his tears often enough in the past few days that they refused to fall now.

When Duncan had finished, Richie urged him to his feet and back to the house. Methos had arrived at some point while they'd been on the beach, and he was sprawled on the couch drinking a beer. Richie guided Duncan back to his bedroom, helped him strip off his sandy pants, then got him into bed. Before he left the room, the Scot was fast asleep.

Richie thought about kicking Methos off the couch, then decided it would take too much effort. Instead, he headed back out to the porch and the hammock there. He was almost to the door when he heard Methos speak.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he answered before continuing outside. He wasn't sure if it was a lie or not. Once in the hammock, he resolutely closed his eyes, and let the gentle swaying and the murmur of the ocean finally lull him to sleep.

Connor woke him at noon. "Come have lunch," he ordered. "If you sleep much longer, you won't be able to sleep tonight."

Richie stumbled out of the hammock, rubbing his eyes as he followed Connor into the house. Duncan was already in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee while Methos was slicing up fruit and placing it on a tray.

The smell of coffee lured Richie to the stove where he poured his own cup. He carried it over to the table and sat down. Connor brought over a large platter of sandwiches and set them down.

"Help yourself," he said as he sat down.

Methos brought over the fruit a moment later, and joined them. For a few moments, no one spoke as they loaded their plates. Finally, the oldest spoke up.

"We have seats on the two p.m. flight tomorrow," he said. "The funeral will be the day after. I also made hotel reservations in Paris. Is there anything else that needs to be taken care of before we leave?"

Duncan nodded. "I need to pack up our... my belongings. I won't be coming back here."

"That shouldn't take long with all of us helping," Connor said.

"I'll donate... Tessa's clothes to a local church. The rest of the stuff I'll put in storage until I decide where I'm going to settle."

"What about the food that's left?" Connor asked.

"I'll have the next-door neighbor come over and get it. She keeps an eye on the place for my friend."

"Sounds like a plan," Richie said before turning his attention back to his food.

* HL * HL * HL

They spent the afternoon packing up the house. It kept Duncan busy moving between the rooms and answering questions about what things belonged to him versus the owner of the house. Richie thought it was probably the best thing for the Scot to take his mind off of losing Tessa, although there were several times when Duncan had to brush away a tear when he found something that Tessa had loved.

There was some discussion about sleeping arrangements. Richie ended up back in the hammock, Methos had the couch, and the Scots had the bedrooms. He really didn't mind. It was warm enough to sleep outside. The only other alternative would have meant that one of them had to go to one of the many hotels in the area. It didn't seem worthwhile for only one night.

Once again, he found himself unable to sleep. He finally wandered down to the shoreline and settled down on the sand. A short time later, he felt the touch of another Immortal. He looked over and saw Duncan as he sat down next to him. He turned his attention back to the ocean.

"How are you doing?" the Scot finally asked.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" The disbelief was evident in Duncan's voice.

"Of course I'm sure!" Richie insisted. "I'm not falling apart or anything like that. I'm handling it."

"Are you? I know you better than that, Richie."

The young Immortal jumped to his feet. "Why? Just because I'm not crying? That doesn't mean I didn't care for Tessa!"

"I know that," Duncan said, calmly.

"It's not like crying would help her now."

"No, it wouldn't."

"So, it's no big deal. Right? I mean if I don't cry."

"No big deal at all."

"Then why doesn't it feel right?" Richie burst out. "Tessa was the most wonderful person in the world! I loved her more than anyone I've ever known. She was... She was..." He wasn't able to continue. The lump in his throat made it impossible.

Strong arms surrounded him. "I know, Richie. Just as there is no shame in crying, there is no shame in not crying either. I know how much you loved her, and I know how much you're going to miss her, too."

As if the words had released the dam, Richie felt tears trickling down his face. "Oh, Mac, I loved her so much!"

"I know you did. Let it all out, Richie."

The young Immortal found himself sobbing, much as Duncan had done earlier that day. It was a total role reversal. When Richie was done, the Scot guided him back to the porch and the hammock there.

"Sleep well, Richie."

And he did.

* HL * HL * HL

When Richie went into the kitchen the next morning, he found Duncan already there. He poured himself a cup of coffee and joined the Scot at the table.

"Did you sleep well?" Duncan asked.

Richie nodded. "What about you?" He thought Duncan looked better than he had the day before.

"Yes, I did, too. I'm glad you're here, Richie."

"So am I, Mac. So am I."

After breakfast, they spent the rest of the morning cleaning up the place. All the sheets and towels had to be washed, then stored away. Richie was tasked with cleaning out the refrigerator and cupboards.

"And I don't mean by eating all the food, either," Connor added.

Richie responded by sticking out his tongue. It was childish, but sometimes that was the best response for some things. It even brought a smile to Duncan's face for a moment.

Finally, everything was done. Their duffel bags were in the car trunk, and Connor and Methos had already gone outside. Richie and Duncan remained inside for a moment. The Scot looked around and sighed. Richie placed a hand on the older man's shoulder and squeezed.

"Take your time, Mac."

"No, it's time to let go. Even though we were here for eight years, it never really felt like home. It was more like an extended vacation. I won't miss the place."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. Maybe travel around for a while."

"Well, if you want a traveling companion, I'm willing."

Duncan looked over and studied the young man for a moment. Then he smiled. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

Richie smiled in return. "Of course, there's not going to be any of that camping-type stuff. I've grown accustomed to luxury in my old age. Only first class hotels and restaurants."

Duncan smiled again, then threw an arm around Richie's shoulders. "I think a little roughing it would be good for you. A couple of months should do it."

"Absolutely no way! I'm a city boy."

"We'll discuss it on the plane," Duncan said, in a voice that made it clear he intended to get his own way.

Richie didn't really care. If it would help them recover from Tessa's death, it would be worth it. He had a feeling that it was going to be a very interesting trip.

The end.

Author's notes: Well, Tessa insisted on this story being written even though I swore I'd never do a death story. I haven't decided whether I'll go back and write about some of the adventures that I've mentioned here. A lot will depend on whether the muse strikes or not.


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